


I search my skin for the entry point (where love went in)

by jaylene



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Soulmate AU, Time Travel AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-25 18:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15646017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaylene/pseuds/jaylene
Summary: Sakura's stuck in a new world with unfamiliar words written upon her skin. Those words are about to become entirely too familiar to her. Soulmate!AU. HashiSakuMada.





	1. Chapter 1

Sakura leans against her hoe, pondering the rows of plants before her. She's glad that she over-planted; over-planned the same way she used to at the hospital. Though she is of much simpler means now, old habits die hard. Considering the number of people currently infirmed on her property, she'll need every last one of her crops to feed people in the upcoming lean months.

"Will we have enough, Sakura-dono?"

Sakura glances at her aide, a girl of Akimichi heritage whose legs Sakura saved from sepsis. Even though she is fully healed, she chose to stay on Sakura's land as do a few others.

"Barring the addition of a full troop to our numbers, we should be fine, Bina-chan," Sakura replies dryly. "I can finish here. Go assist Tomiko with the jarring process. I'm sure he's a bit overwhelmed by all of the jams and jellies."

Bina gives her a look clearly questioning the idea of leaving Sakura alone but, when Sakura makes a shooing motion, she goes.

Sakura snorts to herself, wondering what Bina thinks she can do to protect Sakura should something arise. Most of her wards who stay have taken up the cause of Sakura's well-being and she leaves them be as their meddling amuses her.

She raises a cloth-covered wrist to her forehead, wiping at the sweat that gathers there. She glares down at the coverings on her wrist, glad that it's helpful for once.

Even after years here, Sakura is unused to the writing that mars her skin. She's already tried every method she knows of to remove it and, as a medic-nin, those methods are extensive and each more dangerous and painful than the one that came before. No matter what she does, the writing reappears in the same locations, one on her left forearm and the other scrawled across her right hip.

Two soulmarks, as the natives call them, are seen as cause for celebration.

Sakura sees them as a pain in the ass.

Or hip and arm as the case happens to be.

So she keeps them covered for her own peace of mind. And to keep nosy residents from asking too many questions.

Sakura gathers the ripe produce into the large baskets she brought with her, enjoying the heat of the sun against her back.

She pauses in the process as one of the bells at her waist begins to ring. Sakura frowns, glancing askance at the tree line. Someone has crossed her barrier, a feat that has not occurred in all of her time living here.

When he steps out of the darkness, Sakura is prepared for him.

"What the hell do you want?" Sakura demands of the man.

He is tall and muscled, his dark hair plaited out of his face. A rugged jaw, defined cheekbones, and sloe eyes make up a handsome, open face. Currently, his expression is surprised. He schools his expression, examining her with keen interest. "Well, I suppose what I want is you."

Sakura gasps as her hip begins to tingle, almost burning. "Why are you here?" she asks, falling into a defensive stance.

"I heard that this forest houses a spirit or god of sorts. Many of my relatives have been treated by this forest spirit, though they've remained rather tight-lipped on the subject. I suspect some have stayed."

"What do you intend to do if that is true?" Sakura asks, taking in his stormy gaze.

"Take them home," he replies. "They have a duty to their clan."

"You will do no such thing," Sakura says. "I care not for clans or wars, but this land is mine." Her eyes blaze as she strikes the ground with her bare toes. It shakes the earth beneath the man, knocking him off balance. "You will not make any of them leave against their will."

He drinks her in, her resolute will and fiery passion, before smiling. He shakes out his clothes and moves closer, stopping when she tenses. "Of course. I apologize for starting us off on the wrong foot. I certainly won't do anything against my soulmate's wishes." Sakura shivers at the sheer intent in his eyes. "I am Senju Hashirama. Might I have your name in turn?"

Sakura stares at him in muted surprise. The first Hokage is one of her soulmates. He looks quite different from the visages of him captured in Konoha's Monument and the Valley of the End. "You may call me Sakura," she says, almost reluctant to even give him that. She rubs at her hip absently. "Is there a procedure for this?" She wrinkles her nose. "This whole soulmate business is odd to me."

"Generally, soulmates display their soulmarks upon meeting," Hashirama says, tugging his shirt up. Sakura watches as a familiar looping scrawl is revealed upon his sternum in a green that matches her eyes. "Huh," he says, tracing the letters. Sakura ignores the frisson of heat that shoots up her spine. "It used to be black lettering." He grins at her. "I guess it's because we finally met."

Sakura shrugs, shifting her shirt and rolling down her pants to display her hip. She is ignorant to the way Hashirama flushes and his eyes darken. "You recognize the writing?" she asks, staring down at the brown scribbles that follow the curve of her hip. "Its coloring changed too."

The same bell jingles again. Sakura groans, hastily doing up her pants once more.

"Did someone follow you?" Sakura demands, glaring at Hashirama. Soulmate or not, she's going to kick his ass for destroying the safety of her haven.

"Wait, Sakura—" Hashirama begins but it is too late.

Sakura springs into action, releasing the seals on a few of the traps near the intruder. The flash bangs go off immediately, filling the the clearing with blinding light. As they do so, Sakura Shunshins forward, loosening the earth around the intruder's feet. As he sinks up to his knees, Sakura knocks him down, pinning him with a foot to his throat.

In the handful of seconds it takes to complete all of this, Sakura doesn't get a chance to look at the intruder. She does so now.

And, unlike Hashirama, she  _does_  recognize him. The monuments do him justice.

Uchiha Madara.

He stares up at her with a smirk, Sharingan spinning. "Damn woman. If you wanted me prostrated before you, you could've just asked."

Sakura inhales sharply as her arm begins to burn. "Not you too," she mutters, oblivious to the way his eyes widen then narrow in contemplation.

Well, things just got a lot more complicated.

* * *

 _Original tags_ : #hashisakumada #hashisaku #madasaku#sakura haruno #hashirama senju #madara uchiha #soulmate!au#time travel!au#you best believe that madara's soulmark gives him a hell of a complex#not you too i mean damn#he tries to compensate for the inadequacy his mark makes him feel with his skills as a shinobi#and now i'm making myself sad#hashirama just constantly throws himself into volatile situations hoping that he'll find his soulmate that way#basically the bois are walking disasters and sakura is stuck with them#and she absolutely complains about it #she doesn't want none of that nonsense#they manage to persuade her that soulmates aren't terrible #my fic #anon#drabble #prompt


	2. Chapter 2

The moment that Madara stops being thunderstruck by the realization that his soulmate— _his soulmate_ —is present before him in the flesh, he leaps to his feet and rounds on Hashirama. "You," he says, his expression dark with rage. "This is your fault!"

"What's my fault?" Hashirama asks, bewildered. "I thought you'd be happy that we share our soulmate—"

Madara yanks up his pants, showcasing  _"Not you too,_ " written in large green lettering across his calf. "The reason I have such a—a  _lacking_  soulmark is because of you! You pissed off my soulmate!"

Hashirama barely has a moment to brace himself before Madara flings himself across the clearing, attacking Hashirama. He doesn't attack with any advanced jutsu or chakra; he doesn't want to kill his friend, he wants to make him hurt, to make him suffer with the same pain he's felt for years, fretting over his inadequacies before his unknown soulmate. And of course, of  _fucking_ course, Hashirama is at the root of his problem, like always.

Something stings at his eyes, completely unfamiliar as he strikes Hashirama's face with a punch. Hashirama allows the first one, but blocks the rest, frowning up at Madara with teeth stained red by that first blow.

Worst of all is the understanding in Hashirama's eyes and Madara realizes that Hashirama  _allowed_  the first punch to land. His Sharingan activates as he reconsiders his decision to not use chakra.

" _Enough_!"

Madara startles as a hand grabs him by the collar, lifting him free of Hashirama. He meets the green fires of his soulmate's gaze and he shivers. Sage above, she's a spirit of war incarnated in flesh.

And he has no idea what her name is.

"Look," she says, still holding him easily. The position is uncomfortable for him as his feet drag against the ground, but she seems unbothered. "I have no idea why the two of  _you_  are fighting. Hell, I should be the one punting you around for trespassing on my land. I will  _not_  have you instigating a battle on my lands; I know the casualties the two of you accumulate."

"You have me at disadvantage," Madara says, adding a hint of charm to his voice. It's rough and disused, ill-suited but he'll do his best to change his soulmate's preconceived notions of him. "You know me on sight, but I don't know you. I am Uchiha Madara. May I have the pleasure of your name?"

Her eyebrows draw together, but the anger fades, replaced more by befuddlement. "You may address me as Sakura."

" _Sakura_ ," he repeats, savoring it.

Soulmates are a treasure, a rarity and he'll be damned before he lets her slip between his fingers.

She eyes him warily though she cannot hide the way she shivers at his voice. Sakura releases him and says nothing as he lands with cat-like grace, even from such an odd position. Her attention shifts to Hashirama and she makes a noise of disgust as she watches him lean his head back, making the blood run down his throat.

"No, no,  _stop_!" Sakura says, scandalized. This is the God of Shinobi? "How are you still alive? That is not how you treat a bloodied nose."

She pulls his hands away from his nose, yanking him down to her level. Hashirama says nothing, just watching her as her hands light with chakra. Sakura almost falters at that. Does he truly trust her based on the fact that her words are on him and his on her? It makes no sense to her. Still, she runs a cool, gentle hand over his nose, healing the break.

When she is done, Sakura steps away, looking at her disparate soulmates. They are absolute  _legends_ ; how the hell did she get saddled with them?

Hashirama turns toward Madara, cocking his head and narrowing his eyes. Then, his eyes go wide and Sakura can practically see a realization hit him. "Wait a minute," he says, giving Madara an incredulous look. "Are you  _jealous_?"

Madara whips his head around and glares at Hashirama, Sharingan spinning.

Sakura sighs, presses her fingers to her forehead, and lifts a brief prayer for her future sanity. From the looks of things, she's going to need it.


End file.
